


Especially Sandburg

by Caro Dee (Caro_Dee)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Sentinel Senses, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-02
Updated: 2011-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caro_Dee/pseuds/Caro%20Dee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Especially Sandburg

**Author's Note:**

> Written back in… 2006?

Spring is tough. Jim was too young to be bothered by it the last time his senses were heightened, but now he can smell it all over the place and it makes him sweat. It's not really an actual scent, more an awareness buzzing under his skin, an itch that won't go away no matter how often he scratches it.

Nature is waking up, turning on the genetic reproductive programming, and the whole world responds. It's not so much the squirrels and the pigeons and the household pets making him antsy, although they're everywhere. He can ignore that. It's the people.

Anybody over the age of puberty is pouring out the pheromones in a subliminal, 'Come and get it! All you can eat buffet' of longing and desire and rut.

Especially Sandburg. He can kind of turn away from everyone else, bring down the dials, take the edge off in private, but Sandburg is just there. Always fucking there.

Right now, he's hustling along next to Jim, hands gesturing wildly, talking a mile a minute, twirling round without breaking his stride to keep the pretty girls in sight, and pouring out pheromones by the truckload.

He smells _wonderful_. Jim wants to just haul him in close and sniff him all over. And how weird is that? Thinking Sandburg smells good, thinking maybe he'll taste and feel good too. Hell of a way to find out that idle speculation over the years where occasional men were concerned wasn't all that idle. Jim doesn't particularly want to know this about himself, but the senses won't let him remain ignorant.

From the expectant look on his face, Sandburg's asking him something. Jim replays the last thirty seconds in his head, comes up with something that makes Sandburg beam with enthusiastic agreement and return to his frenetic monolog. Jim lets himself look at Sandburg for a few moments, smiling with rueful affection.

He's half-hard, his balls aching with longing, all the time now. He just needs to hang on a while longer and they'll be back at the loft. Jim will make some excuse to go up to his bedroom. The moment he gets there, he'll shove down his pants, cock in hand, pillow shoved over his mouth to muffle the sounds that Sandburg puttering around in the kitchen doesn't need/want to hear, and he'll let 'er rip.

Imagine Sandburg's sly, sidewise glance at his crotch and the cheerful, knowing voice asking, "So... need any help with that, man?" And Jim will shrug casually and admit that he wouldn't say no. Then Sandburg will kneel, fascinated gaze on Jim's cock, that ripe mouth opening to accept...

No! Fuck. Don't think about it. Not here, not now. Jim gathers his dignity and his long jacket thankfully covering his crotch and thinks about disgusting smelly things, which as a Sentinel, he knows far too much about, but it wilts his cock pretty effectively. For now.

God, he'll be glad when Spring is over.


End file.
